


Admission of Care

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sten pulls Zevran back away from the fire when the elf refuses to move himself. Zevran takes to this admission of weakness with absolute delight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admission of Care

Zevran sprawled on the bedroll he had moved close to the fire - too close, for Wynne's appreciation, but he was cold, and he wanted to enjoy the warmth as best he could. He dozed, cheek pressed to the pillow he had selected in Denerim, enjoying the flicker of the flames beside him - he liked to hear their crackle, and feel the heat from the fire on his skin.

"You are too close to the fire, elf."

"No I'm not, Sten. Leave me be." Zevran requested, tone as sweet as he could manage; he kept his eyes closed, enjoying his place on the ground.

"If you were closer, elf, you would be in the fire itself."

"But I am not closer, dear Sten. I am here." Sten let out a little growl, that throaty noise he often made when Zevran spoke to him, and then Zevran was moving, sliding across the ground. He let out an undignified yelp, and it was instinct that made him grasp for his knife and lunge.

Sten was unamused as he stared at Zevran, apparently utterly undeterred by the rogue's dagger touched against his neck, not drawing blood, not yet.

"You  _moved_  me!" Zevran said, and it was an accusation, loud enough to draw attention from some of their campmates.

"You were too close to the fire."

"What, am I too  _hot_  for you to stand, Sten?" The Qunari's hand wrapped around Zevran's, tight as he pushed the blade slowly away from his own throat. 

"Do not lie so close to the fire. It is dangerous."

"Do you not believe that those who do dangerous things should learn their lessons by their own pains?" The Qunari furrowed his brow, his lips pressed together as he glared down at the shorter man. 

"Do not lie so close to the fire." He repeated, and he released Zevran's hand, standing up straight and crossing his arms to regard the elf still on the ground.

"Oh!" Zevran crowed, delighted. "Oh, have I found a point on which your Qun cannot explain your actions?"

"Cease the flap of your useless mouth, elf." Sten grumbled, and added, "Maraas imekari - this is senseless."

"Oh, my mouth is not useless, good Sten - allow me to show you, I will do so gladly if you join me in my tent." Sten stared at him, and Zevran offered a delighted smile. 

"You are an idiot."

"But I am pretty, no?"

"No." Sten agreed.

"You destroy me!" Zevran says, distraught, and falls back on the bedroll again, clutching at his heart. "Won't you tell me I'm pretty?"

"No." He turned away, but no, no, Zevran would not let him get away with that.

"I know you care, Sten!" He teased, tone sing-song. "You pulled me away from the fire!"

"Be quiet." Zevran dropped back, chuckling to himself as he enjoyed the warmth of the fire. For all his smugness, he did not see the slight quirk to Sten's lips as he sat down beside the dog, preferring the silent companionship of a "worthy warrior" to the rest of the camp. 

It, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that the dog was the only creature that would not tease him about what had just occurred. Nothing at all.


End file.
